Final Act
by Maji
Summary: Cars Fanfic Challenge response.  There are far worse things in life, than spending the rest of it with the most important person in it.  The King and his wife in the aftermath of the Piston Cup.


This is a response to the CARSFANFIC Yahoo Group Fanfic challenge. The challenge was to write a story of 500-2000 words of the events following the Piston Cup Race, focusing on The King and/or his wife. Sort of a bitter sweet kind of thing. There are worse things than spending the rest of your life with the most important person it it after all.

Disclaimer - I don't own Cars... Pixar does... Though that would be awesome. In short, please don't sue me I have no money and you can't kick a dead horse and make it go. Rock On!

It was an almost surreal feeling... It was over. All of it. The race... The thrill of the win... An entire chapter of his life was over. Hell who was he kidding? It wasn't just a chapter. He was coming very close to the end of the book and he knew it.

Only moments ago he had felt nothing but white hot agony as he had been pushed into the wall and flung fender over fender down the asphalt track and into the dirt. He had been laying in the dirt trying to gather his strength... Trying to pull himself together and get to his tires... An impossible feat... When Lightning McQueen had pulled up behind him. The King had finished his last race.

The feeling was bitter sweet...

As bitter sweet as any ending result would have been. A win... A loss... Finishing... Not finishing... It would have been worse if he had never finished the race. He was grateful for that. He wasn't sure how he would have been able to live with that. He supposed he would have had to... Now he didn't have to think about it and for that he was grateful. He owed that to McQueen.

The agony of being pushed across the track had suddenly turned numb as Lightning left him. Everything seemed to fade into a haze for a moment. Nothing abnormal. The haze of the end of a race. Exhaustion and pain all mixing into one as the roar of the crowd blended into a dull hum. Brief flashes told him there where photographers nearby... He wouldn't hear their calls for his attention. Just as surreal as the end of the race itself... It was almost bizarre. They didn't crowed. They didn't push. They didn't scream out questions... It was almost quiet in the little area near his pit station. He heard someone call out to call in the paramedic staff. Probably Tex or one of the pit crew... Not far away from him he heard his wife pull up, a little kiss planted on McQueen's hood as she thanked him.

He couldn't help but smile as the rookie quietly spoke to her then backed up away from the two and pulled off to meet up with his own team. Couldn't help but think that boy had grown up quite a bit since their last race together... Hard to believe it was only a week ago...

It was with that same surreal haze that caused him to tense just a bit as his wife came up beside him, her fender lightly pressed against his. Probably afraid any more contact than that would hurt him... As it was, he could take the discomfort if it meant being close to her.

"You scared the livin' daylights out of me..." Her voice so soft beside him it was barely a whisper, going unheard between anyone else but them. She sounded close to tears.

"Scared the livin' daylights out of me." He commented softly. She shook gently, the muffled sounds telling him that she was chuckling softly. She hiccuped against him, those threatening tears breaking through her brief amusement. That was the truth... The flight across the track had taken forever to him... He had seen his entire life flash before his eyes. Every win... Every loss... All of it. The only thing that had frightened him was the thought of leaving her behind. Even now it made him shudder.

"I wasn't afraid of losing the race you know..." He muttered softly, catching her attention. "Before anything else happens... You know how much I love you right?"

She smiled and gave a brief nod against his fender. There where more photographers pulling up. He closed his eyes against the flash of the cameras and let out a soft sigh. "I was afraid..." He admitted quietly to her. "I was afraid I was leaving you behind."

She nodded quietly, those fears having been exactly on her mind. "You didn't. You stayed. You're here and I love you to." She muttered quietly, her voice a bit smoother now. Putting on a brave face.

"Mr. The King? What are you going to do now that you've retired?" He opened one eye to level his gaze on a young reporter. One of the very few that would have intruded on this quiet moment. The others hung back, looking uncertain.

He could have been irritated he supposed. Though he only offered a smile. The medical team would take a few minutes yet. He may as well humor them. "Sleep." He announced with a soft rumble of a chuckle, trying so hard to keep still, the vibrations of his frame shooting dull shocks of pain through him.

There was a soft chuckle that went through the group, that accepted question bringing on more tentative ones. "Are you happy with the outcome of the race?"

"I'm alive... I'm here with my wife. I even finished the race thanks to McQueen. I'll be grateful for those three things until the day they put me in the ground. I'm very content with the outcome." Somewhere beyond the photographers he could hear the sharp screech of a siren. Ambulance... It had to be...

Another accepting murmur before a young truck nervously put in a question of his own.

"What are your thoughts on Chick Hicks and the extent he went to, to win this race?"

That one surprised him... "I believe... In what goes around comes around. One day Chick Hicks will understand running a clean race. Until then nothing I can say will change his mind. Chick Hicks... Is a good racer. I respect him. Maybe the better car won today. I'm not here to judge that. All I can hope is that one day he understands. That one day he'll understand why McQueen gave up a Piston Cup to help a run down old car. One day... I hope he'll let go of that need to prove himself." He responded quietly. He was never one to run down another racer no matter what they had done to him... What Chick had done... Was racing... He didn't have to like it. It was facts...

"Mr. Weathers?" Their attention pulled forward again as the sea of photographers parted, the gentle voice of the track doctor silencing the cameras for the moment. "We need to get you to a hospital and get you checked out." He offered softly, his attention turning for a moment to The King's wife.

"Lynda you can ride with him if you want." A grateful smile was what met him as she nodded.

The King let a smile cross his grill as he silently forced himself back to his tires, untucking the rubber appendages from beneath his frame. It was surreal... It was over... All of it... His career had come to a close... It had nearly killed him in the end...

That was alright...

"Lynda I think we need to make a trip out to Radiator Springs." He announced as the medics pushed him towards a waiting ambulance. His gaze wasn't on the surrounding area. It had drifted to where Lightning McQueen and Doc Hudson sat parked, chatting on about the race. Those people deserved his thanks... All of them. He wasn't sure why but every single one of them...

"When you're out of critical care dear." His wife's almost exasperated voice stated from somewhere behind him. Gone was the whispers of tears from her voice. It made him remember just why he had married her. She was strong. She was a fighter. They would survive this.

He would have also laughed if it didn't hurt so much. She was already exasperated with him. Everything was going to be alright... He was going to spend the rest of his life with his best friend, and the love of his life...

"Hey can we stop for some of those Gask-it cookies on the way?" He questioned weakly, a smile crossing his grill.

"You all feel free to give him something to knock him out." Came his wife's voice from somewhere behind.

"You know you love me." He commented with a soft chuckle. The vibration of his own laugh shook his frame painfully but he didn't care.

"Only on Sundays and Labor day dear." She offered with a soft chuckle. The surrounding paramedics chuckled softly at the loving banter.

"Hah! It's Sunday. You love me!" Strip announced with a somewhat light hooded chuckled as he was loaded into the waiting ambulance. Once onboard he began to quickly slip into the blessed folds of sleep...

He hurt... Everywhere... The siren of the ambulance as he was taken away was as surreal as the end of the race... His career was over... That part of his life was over... Like the next part in a book... He was happy... There were worse things in life than spending the rest of your days with your best friend...


End file.
